


ball's in your yard

by poalimal



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fic in the Time of Quarantine, Football | Soccer, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23151622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: Jack didn't seem like the kind of guy that Justin wanted to catch off-guard.
Relationships: Justin "Ransom" Oluransi/Jack Zimmermann
Kudos: 11





	ball's in your yard

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a riff off the English-language phrase 'ball's in your court' - usually said to indicate that it is the listener's turn to determine what happens next. The phrase references court-based ball games, such as basketball or tennis, implying that ownership of the ball has been given over to an opposing player or team. Sometimes also used to connote choice, or opportunity (a la _the world is your oyster_ ).

'--Oops,' said Phae. That was Justin's only warning before her kick went wide, shooting the ball straight into their neighbour's bushes. Into _Jack Zimmermann's_ bushes.

As one, Justin and Phae dove for a hiding spot on the porch.  
  
It wasn't even that Jack was _mean_ , really. He was just kind of-- cold. In the five months since he'd moved into the neighbourhood, he never really smiled, never really talked to anyone... And he always walked like he was in a hurry, like he thought that Justin might force him into small talk if they exchanged anything more than head-nods. 

Not like they even ran into each other all that often: Jack seemed to only ever walk his dog whenever Justin wasn't outside. It was almost enough to give a guy a complex.

Doreen from down the street said that Jack was shy, that he was very nice when you caught him off-guard. That was all well and good, but Jack didn't seem like the kind of guy that Justin wanted to catch off-guard, particularly.

'See, Phae?' Justin hissed, from where he was folded up and lurching back and forth in the rickety rocking chair. He was pretty sure the top of his head was still visible from the back. 'This is what happens when you choose power over accuracy!'

'No, you know what, Uncle J?' said Phae, ducking her now fuzzy head out from beneath the wicker loveseat, 'this is what happens! When you make me do drills! On my rest day!'

'Oh, yea, _right_ I made you,' said Justin, still hissing. 'The _minute_ your mom walked out the door, who was the one saying, oh, piano's so boring, I'll practise if you play with me outside, just 30 minutes--'

'Excuse me,' called Jack, from his yard. Agh! Justin overbalanced and fell out of the rocking chair with a loud _thump_. Phae slid back under the loveseat smoothly, kicking out at Justin when he tried to grab at her leg and drag her out.

'You're an adult!' Phae whispered, wriggling her legs all around. 'Go be an adult! Go get the ball!'

'Ah,' said Jack. 'Excuse me?' Justin jumped to his feet and whirled around. Oh God. Jack was standing in their front yard - and he had the ball in his hands!

'Uh, hi there, ' said Justin, '...Jack. Ha-ha-ha.'

'Hi, Justin,' said Jack. He tilted his head a little, glancing past Justin to the loveseat. God, he was cute. 'Hi, Phaedra.' 

'...Hi, Mr Jack,' Phae said sulkily, still under the loveseat. 

Jack's lips quirked for a second, before he flicked his eyes back to Justin. 'I believe this belongs to you?'

'Huh, no, I don't,' said Justin, playing dumb, 'I, I don't think I've ever seen that ball-- before.' He tried crossing his arms but it felt weird, so he just put his hands awkwardly on his hips.

'It's got your name on it,' Jack observed, turning the ball over in his hands.

'Wow!' said Justin, walking down the porch stairs. 'What are the odds? My name being on a ball that I've-- never seen before! That's crazy, right?'

Jack looked at Justin like _he_ was crazy. 'This is your ball,' he said, with a flat affect.

Justin winced. 'Yea,' he admitted, 'sorry. It was my fault - I kicked the ball too hard, I didn't mean for it to go into your yard.'

Jack raised his eyebrow, glancing over Justin's shoulder at Phae's hiding place. His lips did that funny quirking thing again, like he knew Justin was fibbing. 

'It's fine,' he said finally. 'Just make sure you don't do it when Milo's outside, or else he'll try to get into your yard all the time.'

'Oh, don't worry,' said Justin, 'you can come into my yard any time.'

Phae made a noise like she was choking.

'I meant,' said Justin, smiling thinly, 'your _dog_ can come into our yard anytime.'

'Hm,' said Jack. He looked down at his hands, turning the ball over again. '...And would I be welcome?'

Justin blinked. 'Why wouldn't you be welcome?'

Jack gave him a flat look, then returned his gaze down to the ball in his hand. 'You always seem very...focused whenever you're outside,' he said. 'I wouldn't want to bother you.'

'Oh,' said Justin. 'You wouldn't be a bother! Yea, feel free to come over whenever. We're always happy to see you, talk to you, whatever.'

'Hm,' said Jack, glancing up at Justin. His lips almost twitched up into a smile. 'Looking forward to _whatever_ , then.' He held out the ball - Justin took it from him dumbly - his hands were big and warm. 'Bye, Phaedra. Bye, Justin.'

Justin made vague mouth noises.

'Bye, Mr Jack!' Phae said cheerily. Justin whipped his head around with a reflexive scowl - Phae had somehow relocated to the top stair without him noticing. Justin didn't like the look of her grin: it foretold of imminent roast sessions about his lack of game.

'--What,' Justin finally said, once Jack had crossed back over into his yard - whistling for Milo now, presumably.

'Oh, nothing,' Phae said breezily, steepling her hands under her chin delicately. 'Just... observing.'

'Well, why don't you go _observe_ ,' Justin tossed the soccer ball at her, which she caught with a yelp, 'the piano keys 'fore your mom gets home.' Phae frowned mightily; Justin tried to soften her up: 'C'mon, Phae - I wanna hear some Rocky, some Concerto No. 2.'

'That's between you and your Spotify playlist,' Phae said archly, tossing the soccer ball right back at him. ' _I'm_ gonna go do my summer reading.' And she stomped up the porch stairs and into the house, leaving Justin feeling like a prize jackass.

Man - she _really_ hated playing the piano, Justin thought, dropping the soccer ball into the grass. What a waste of talent.

Maybe it ran in the family. That's what everybody had said about him, too.

At the sound of a short, small bark, Justin looked up sharply - then he broke out into a grin. There Milo was, in all his sheepdog glory, staring at him from Jack's yard. And where was Jack now? 

Well - only one way to find out. 'Hey, boy,' said Justin, 'wanna play ball?'

**Author's Note:**

> \- The piano solo in Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No 2 is _diff_ -i-c u l t.  
> \- Stay safe and socially distant, y'all. Let's all make it to 2021 together!


End file.
